Cauldron Bottoms
by Lotho's Cute Villainess Minion
Summary: A presentation about the thickness of cauldron bottoms, followed by a party. Percy doesn't like drinking, because he hates to lose control, but he does need to loosen up.


"...this is a real necessity. If the market continues to be flooded with these cheap, shallow-bottomed imports, the rate of cauldron leakage with continue to rise at the same alarming rate - higher, even, if things go badly - which will lead to further problems, such as..."

He could hear his voice droning on, reciting statistics, problems, causes, remedies... he had never been at one with the language of rhetoric, so he tended to fill his presentations with logic and reason instead. Whether it worked was another matter, of course.

Hands that shook a little with nerves rose to adjust his horn-rimmed glasses. He tried to meet the eye of some of the Ministry officials, but not one was looking up at him. No wonder, really. If he couldn't keep his own mind on thin-bottomed cauldrons, how could he expect the audience to?

"Thank you," he finally concluded, "and enjoy your afternoons."

There was a smattering of polite applause as people realised that he had finished speaking. A few individuals sought him out afterwards to shake his hand, offer a generic string of compliments.

"Sometimes wish I had a bright blighter like you in my department."

"Good job, mate, that'll give things the kick-start they need."

"Well done, kiddo."

"Nice work, buddy - what's your name, anyway? Weatherby, isn't it?"

"Weasley," he replied, sipping hurriedly from his glass of water - his throat had gone quite dry during his speech - and offering an eager hand to the older gentleman. "Percy Weasley."

_ooo_

"Have a drink, Perce, go on - just to celebrate."

Percy wasn't sure he'd ever quite understand what he saw in Oliver Wood, or what Oliver saw in him. Not that there was any relationship there beyond brotherly affection - and brotherly was a good word for it, as in his experience, brothers did tend to be as fascetious, distancedand antagonistic as Oliver did - but they seemed an odd pair of friends to most onlookers.

They weren't all that close, really. How could they be?

"I'll have a butterbeer, or something, nothing too strong. I don't like losing control."

He should have realised that the gleam in Oliver's eye was a little more mischievous than a celebration about a shallow-bottomed cauldrons lecture really warranted.

_ooo_

For most of the evening he'd shied back from even this humble crowd a little, only joining in the conversation when he could hide behind a pompous statement, or a list of achievements. Something solid. Somethingthat others saw as generically 'Percy', so they wouldn't have to pry too deep to get the whole story.

He kept half an eye on Penelope most of the time. Every time he saw her, there was a pang in his chest. They'd been dating since the end of their Fourth Year at Hogwarts - and now, this was nearing the end of summer after they finished school, so that was a good three and a half years - and it still pained him to see her talking so lightly to other men. She was never that light, that carefree with him.

Maybe she was, and he was just too uptight to notice.

Maybe she was only still with him to save him the heartbreak.

Would there be any heartbreak, now, if Penelope broke up with him? Every day since the start of their relationship he had entertained at least one thought of them breaking up for one reason or another, over one incident or another. Maybe all those thoughts would lessen the pain if it happened now, if she left him for another man.

Rubbing his temples, he reached across the table for some glass or another - any glass would do. Help him forget his stupid preoccupation with being rejected.

Bits of the evening came back to him with more clarity than others. Talking to Penelope and her charming friend about the cauldrons, that he remembered, and kissing her - Penelope, not the charming friend - in front of all these people, that was rather forthright of him, wasn't it, and debating the meaning of the term 'brotherly affection' with Oliver, gesturing a bit too wildly during this debate and sloshing some liquid or another down his chest... that one he remembered well, really. He was still in his good dress robes, and he made some appropriate indignant sputtering sounds at his own clumsiness.

"Don't worry about it, Perce," Oliver replied airily. "It'll come out in the wash... you're just a bit drunk."

That did it. Percy looked up from the stain on his new dress robes, bristling visibly at that remark. "I am not drunk. These are my good robes, you know!"

"You spilt it, not me."

Oliver seemed as though he was being deliberately infuriating, and Percy rose to the bait. "You're trying to make a fool of me in front of all these people! You know I don't like losing control!"

"Don't worry about it, mate." Oliver seemed somewhat concerned, at this point; though, of course, maybe he was just afraid of Percy making any more of a scene than had already been made. "No one cares, everyone's a little tipsy..."

"I'm NOT drunk! Look, Oliver, this thing, this thing here stops now."

"You're slurring, Percy, I'd say you're drunk."

"I am not - I repeat, not! - slurring, Oliver Wood. This is just some ridiculous creation of yours to publically humiliate me." He noticed, then, that he was slurring - just a little, surely not enough to be noticed by many, so he was careful to enunciate every word.

This didn't have the desired effect. Instead of apologising for the accusation, Oliver just howled with laughter. "Now you just sound like Posh Spice, mate..."

It was tempting to take a swing at the poor, laughing boy then. He would have done, too, teach him a lesson, if Penelope hadn't grabbed his arm, leaned across, whispered in his ear. "It's okay, Perce... so what if you got a little tipsy without meaning to? Loosen up a little, enjoy yourself - don't beat up Oliver, okay?"

Her words didn't have the effect that his realisation that finally, Penelope - his girlfriend, for pity's sake! - had finally decided to really communicate with him. Talking about cauldrons didn't really count, that was just pretend small-talk, and kissing her was just being physical, it wasn't really communication, just lust. It was still tempting to teach Oliver a bit of a lesson, but Penelope was looking at him, almost pleadingly, smiling...

"Okay..."

He had a little more to drink after that - he was already tipsy, there was no harm in a little more - and Penelope hung a lot closer to his side than before, and he kissed her a few times more... he didn't remember much of it, really, but he must have been having fun, or he wouldn't have been doing it. It was quite a pity, really, that he only had fun when he was getting too drunk to remember what he was getting up to.

_ooo_

His head pounded when he awoke the next morning, and he groped on his bedside table for a glass of water, anything, really. Thecreaking soundof the door opening made him wince a little; it sounded about twice as loud and twice as invasive.

"Percy!" The sound of his sister's voicewaspainfully shrill as she barged into his bedroom. "It's past -oh," her cheeks turned quite pink,"for pity's sake, put some clothes on, Percy."

It occured to him that whoever had helped him to bed the previous night had helped him undress. Well, he had noticed that before. He now realised that it would be a good idea to get dressed before anyone else came barging into his room. A dressing gown, for the time being, should be sufficient.

Ginny didn't stop blushing, though Percy noted tersely that she hadn't_left_ - just closed her eyes. "It'sgonenoonPerce,wherewereyoulastnightandwhattimedidyougetback?"

"I'm dressed, now, Ginny."

The girl opened her eyes, though she was still quite pink, and she tooka deep breath and repeated herself. "It's gone noon, Perce, and everyone wants to know where you were last night and what time you got back - it's not like you to sleep in like this."

He shrugged, raising one hand to his temple and fumbling around for his glasses. "With Oliver, and Penelope... few others. Don't know when I got back... think I'm hungover."

Ginny looked halfjoyful andhalf sympathetic, and fled down the stairs. From downstairs, Percy could hear raucous laughter, and a few snippets of voices - the twins, his older brothers, Harry...

Of course, Harry Potter had to be there to hear about his drunken escapades, didn't he?

She returned a few minutes later with a cold cloth and a jug of cold water. The first sip of water made Percy realise just how thirsty he was; he could have drunk two jugs of the water and still feel dehydrated at this rate.

"Not too fast, you'll make yourself sick."

"Think I already have..." he muttered, clutching his stomach and trying to avoid heaving on the carpet. "Just by waking up. People do that for fun?"

Ginny perched on the edge of his bed, watching him for a long moment. "Sometimes. Sometimes people think it's a good way to loosen up, so they're not totally in control... I think it's pretty stupid, I've seen Mum nursing Bill after a wild night out - but you're lucky she's not home, for the hiding she gave him when he was feeling better - and I can think of a lot of better things to do without the hangover afterwards." For all that she seemed quite smug about finally seeing her older brother do something different, something wild, she was a lot more sympathetic than she let on.

No words were exchanged for a long moment. Percy retched again, though his stomach was quite empty of anything except acid - if only he'd had something to eat last night, to absorb some of the alcohol! It was stupid to get drunk like that, there was no point to it. Of course, Penelope had told him to loosen up a little, and he was already a little tipsy, that was the obvious step, wasn't it? Ugh. He should know better, by now, than to try and live up to people's expectations. Being pompous was the key, blustering through everything behind a barricade of feigned arrogance. No one expected anything else of you, because you were always like that.

Ginny reached across and rubbed his back comfortingly. He felt a little less isolated, a little less alone at that simple gesture. For all that he was feeling miserable, both emotionally and physically, he gave her a small hug - though he released her before he retched again.


End file.
